Death of a Doll Maker (31 page)

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Authors: I. J. Parker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Historical Fiction, #Chinese, #Japanese

BOOK: Death of a Doll Maker
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“Yes, sir.”

Akitada next filled Mori in on some of the other news. The secretary was dumfounded. “Lord Tachibana was murdered?”

“Yes, Mori. Right after he left here. Do you recall the day?”

“Yes, your Excellency.” The old clerk showed little grief. He merely shook his head in amazement. “His Excellency was irritable. He didn’t look forward to going home. Most of the officials sent from the capital hate Kyushu, but Lord Tachibana made friends here and bought many beautiful things. Of course, there was the matter of the recall.”

“Yes, indeed. If you recall what the governor was wearing, you’d better report to Lieutenant Maeda. It will help identify the body.”

“Yes, sir.” Mori sighed. “It’s hard to believe. Merchant Feng made a lot of money from him and must have hated to see him leave.”

“I don’t doubt it in the least.”

“Merchant Feng was a frequent visitor here and came to see his Excellency off. They left together. His lordship, Merchant Feng, and that Chinese servant of his.”

“Feng admitted as much. By any chance, were you aware that Lord Tachibana had a relationship with a courtesan called Fragrant Orchid?”

Mori blushed. “Oh, yes. We all knew. He was very taken with her. Merchant Feng introduced them.” Mori paused. “I’ve had a look at Mr. Feng’s account book.”

Feng’s secret account book must hold the key to Tachibana’s death, and they badly needed evidence again Feng. The recalled governor’s very close business relationship with the merchant had ostensibly been based on his obsessive acquisition of Chinese art, but such a fixation was a weakness that could be exploited by unscrupulous men. If Tachibana had indeed engaged in illegal and treasonous dealings through Feng, then his departure for the capital, where suspicion of malfeasances would have brought interrogation by the censor’s bureau, was a mortal danger to Feng and possibly others.

Akitada gave Mori an encouraging nod. “Excellent! And what have you found out?”

Mori went to his desk and returned with the book.

“I am not quite sure, your Excellency. Mr. Feng used colloquial Chinese, but I also believe some of the names and objects are disguised by other words.”

“Very likely. Have you learned anything at all?”

“Yes. Merchant Feng has been ordering pictures and some carved figures in exchange for certain sums or unspecified favors. He listed expenditures also, in one case, one of the last entries, he mentions children’s toys. Since the pictures and so forth were for Lord Tachibana, possibly the moneys and favors might have been supplied by Lord Tachibana in payment?”

“Probably. I hate to think what favors Lord Tachibana did the Chinese merchant.” Locking away the account book, Akitada thanked Mori, adding, “We’ll let Lieutenant Maeda ask one of the Chinese merchants to translate this.”

Akitada went to his study for a cup of tea and a brief rest before returning to Hakata. The distance between the tribunal and police headquarters was becoming a nuisance. At least the rain had stopped. To his surprise, he found the houseboy Koji squatting on the floor. The boy shot up and immediately prostrated himself.

“Askin’ pardons, zir. Is a message.”

Irritated to be kept from his refreshment, Akitada snapped, “What message? And why didn’t you give it to Mori?”

Koji shrank. “Very private. Only for governor’s ears. I promise on my mother’s grave.” The boy eyed him anxiously. “You’re angry. I cannot tell you if you’re angry.” He turned to go.

“Koji!” thundered Akitada.

The boy froze, his back to him. Akitada said more gently, “I’m not angry, but I have much to do, so please say what you’ve come to tell me.”

Koji did not turn. “I waited ‘cause I promised.”

“It’s all right. I appreciate your patience.”

“Someone’s here,” Koji offered, looking at him over his shoulder. “He won’t come out if you’re angry.”

Come out? “Who is here?”

Koji shook his head. “I cannot tell if you’re angry.”

Akitada controlled himself with an effort and managed a smile. “Did you ask his name?”

“Yezzir. I ask many times. No name.”

Akitada sighed. “Where is this person?”

Koji walked into the adjoining eave chamber and pointed at one of the trunks standing in a corner. It had held Akitada’s books and papers but was now empty.

Or so Akitada had thought. He crossed quickly to it and flung back the lid.

A man cowered inside. He was on his knees and had his head tucked under his arms as if he expected to be beaten.

“Don’t hurt him, zir,” Koji cried. “He’s afraid.”

“Get out,” snapped Akitada.

After a moment, the slight figure of Feng’s clerk Masashi unfolded its thin limbs and stepped out of the trunk. He was sobbing. He stood for a moment, then fell to his knees and knocked his head against the floor. “Save me, your Excellency,” he cried. “They are going to kill me.”

Akitada nearly smiled. This was a stroke of luck and should fix Feng for good. He said in a reassuring tone, “Don’t worry, Masashi. You’re quite safe here. Koji, this is Masashi. Go and get us some wine and something to eat. Masashi looks worn out.”

“Good!” Koji clapped his hands, grinned, and ran out.

“Now then, Masashi. Sit up and explain.”

The clerk did indeed look pitiful. He was pale and trembled uncontrollably. His stringy hair hung into his face, and his clothes were torn and dirty. He wept again, quite noisily.

“Calm yourself now, “Akitada said a little more firmly. “There is nothing I can do for you unless you speak freely.”

Masashi nodded, hiccupped, and wiped his blubbered face with a dirty sleeve. “Ling came to kill me,” he managed. “I got away, but he’s looking for me.” He pulled the shirt from his neck and pushed his hair back. Masashi’s neck was covered with huge bruises. There were other bruises on his arms and on the side of his face.

“Why did he do this?”

“The master sent him. Just as with Hiroshi. Ling kills people for the master.”

No surprise there. Akitada regarded the clerk with an encouraging smile. Surely Masashi was about to give him more proof of Feng’s crimes. “I suspected as much,” he said. “Why did you come here?”

“Where else could I go? Nobody in Hakata would help me. They’re afraid of Feng or owe him money.”

“Hmm. I take it you know we found the governor’s body?”

The clerk nodded.

“Did Feng kill Governor Tachibana?”

Masashi looked frightened. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Surely not even Ling would have dared touch one of the good people.”

“What about the courtesan Fragrant Orchid?”

“Feng bought her house and set her up. He introduced her to Lord Tachibana.”

“Did Feng have anything to do with her death?”

Masashi gave him a startled look. “They said Fragrant Orchid killed herself out of grief over Lord Tachibana leaving.”

“She was poisoned because she wanted to speak to me. What sort of secret might she have had knowledge of?”

Masashi became agitated again. “Oh, this is terrible,” he moaned. “That Ling is a monster.”

“He is Feng’s monster. Did Feng send Ling to kill Fragrant Orchid?”

“Maybe. Feng told Ling, ‘The woman is going to talk. Take care of her.’ And he gave him something wrapped in paper. I thought it was gold and he meant to pay her off to keep quiet. The governor must have told her about Feng’s business.”

Koji came back with a tray of food and a flask of wine. Giving Masashi an encouraging nod, he set these down before him and left.

Akitada thought back to the alleged suicide letter. It did not fit. He decided he had been wrong about the killer leaving it. Ling was not clever enough. Perhaps it had been something Fragrant Orchid left lying about, something she had saved from her affair with Tachibana.

But the rest was falling into place. Feng’s business indeed! Masashi was a godsend! “Go ahead! Eat and drink,” Akitada urged.

Masashi eyed the bowl of rice cakes hungrily, but settled for a gulp of wine instead. He was not shaking quite as badly as before.

“And what was Feng’s business exactly?” Akitada prodded.

But here Masashi was no help. “I don’t know. He didn’t trust me. I don’t think he trusted anyone, not even Ling. He did a lot of business with China, but this is permitted.”

“In his case, probably not. What about those dolls Ling wouldn’t let me touch?”

“Ling was very rude. Feng really doesn’t like him waiting on customers. The dolls were a special shipment meant to go on the ship to China. I couldn’t see it myself. The other dolls were much better made. These were careless, as if the Mitsuis had rushed the job.”

“Did Feng ask you to pay Mrs. Mitsui five pieces of gold for them?”

“Five pieces of gold? No. That would have been crazy.”

No doubt Feng had dealt with Mrs. Mitsui personally. There was no proof, of course, but Akitada thought about it and decided Mitsui had not been involved in the special dolls. Feng had spoken to his wife, probably because she was also Chinese and could be trusted to keep the secret from her abusive husband. Too bad Hiroshi had found out about the gold.

Masashi had nothing else to tell him. Like Shigeno, the clerk would stay at the tribunal under guard. Masashi was grateful. Akitada did not tell him he would still have to face charges, though he seemed to have been kept in the dark by his master. He made him repeat his tale for a scribe and sign his statement.

Akitada finally changed his clothes and brewed his cup of tea. He sipped it while reading through Masashi’s statement. Then he rode back to Hakata, where Maeda received Masashi’s testimony with great excitement. “All we need now is Ling!” he cried. “And we’ll get him. There’s no place he can run. The Chinese ship isn’t leaving Hakata until this is settled. And look what we found on the ship.” He pointed to a box beside his desk. In it stood nine plain dolls beside the shards of a tenth. And among the shards lay a handful of gleaming gold nuggets.

Akitada touched them. They looked just like the gold he had seen and touched on Sado Island. He remembered Shigeno’s story and said, “So Feng hid this gold in the dolls and was sending it to China. I wonder why. The convict Shigeno was involved in a land dispute over mining a mountain in Osumi. What happened to that land after he was sentenced?”

Maeda looked blank. “No idea. Okata handled the case.”

“Well, since Shigeno was sentenced to transportation here, get me the trial notes. I think Feng planned to sell information about the gold mine to the Chinese. He was sending the gold in those dolls as proof. We need Okata. You have enough to charge him. Why hasn’t he been arrested?”

Maeda flushed. “I sent my sergeant with some men. I thought I’d better stay here, what with Feng and the Chinese ship.”

“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Too many things are happening; it’s hard to keep everything in mind.”

Maeda grinned. “It’s exciting, though.”

Akitada really liked the man.

*

An hour later he had the paperwork on Shigeno’s trial. It confirmed what Shigeno had told him. Of even greater interest was the fact that Captain Okata had played a significant role in the investigation and that he had managed to lose three witnesses whose information would have confirmed the prefect’s involvement in Shigeno’s father’s death. Akitada would see to it that these witnesses would be called. This time Shigeno would fare better.

They brought in Okata toward evening. He was full of outraged bluster until confronted with the charges against him. These ranged far beyond what he had done to Tora. Akitada informed him of Feng’s arrest and then revealed his intentions of reopening the case against Shigeno with particular attention to Okata’s involvement in Feng’s plot to exploit the gold of Kyushu. He might well have brought about an invasion by China.

Treason of this magnitude carried the death penalty. Okata started talking.

30

YESTERDAY’S BLOSSOMS

L
ing was not caught until a week later. By this time Akitada no longer cared. When Maeda informed him, he only said, “Do whatever it takes to make him talk.” Ling confessed quickly. He died on his way to Tsushima.

When Feng was confronted with the evidence against him, he took poison, having been supplied with the means either by accident or design. Akitada did not care about this either.

The Chinese ship was released with a warning, and Korenori, the assistant governor general, congratulated him on solving the murder of governor Tachibana and stopping a dangerous plot against the nation.

Okata was condemned to death and transported.

Matters of much greater importance had happened after Okata’s arrest.

Akitada had returned to the tribunal in the knowledge that he had stopped a dangerous man and a possible invasion by the Chinese. He looked forward with considerable complacency to making his report to Fujiwara Korenori.

But first there were letters from home.

Tora and Saburo were already waiting anxiously for him to open the thick package of official and personal mail. They sat in his study as he undid the oiled cloth that covered mail sent by ship. Laying aside official documents and some letters from friends, Akitada opened a separate package, lovingly tied with a scrap of silk ribbon.

Letters and drawings from the children fell out first. Then he saw a letter from his sister Akiko. Akiko was willful and too conscious of status, in his opinion. Lately she had begun meddling in his work. He laid her letter aside with those of the children. Hanae’s handwriting he recognized and passed to Tora. There were also some missives for Saburo. Finally there was nothing left but a disappointingly thin sheet, folded somewhat badly. It had no superscription, but when he unfolded it, he saw it was from Tamako. The writing was oddly uneven, a mere scrawl, and the letter was only a few lines long.

“My dear husband—we had a son—alas, he died. Forgive your loving wife.”

The death of the child was an unexpectedly painful blow. It was, of course, a common occurrence that newborns died, and this child had been born before his time to a mother who was no longer young. He had not expected to grieve for a creature he only knew from feeling its movements inside its mother’s womb. How like Tamako to ask his pardon in her own grief. There was nothing to forgive. Fate frequently opposed human hope. He sighed and reminded himself that Tamako had already given him two beautiful children—no, three. Yori had also fallen prey to the cruel hand of fate. It was the human lot to suffer such losses. He would write to Tamako. He did not need more children to find happiness in his marriage. She was all he had ever wanted and needed.

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